


put me back together

by upallnightstrungtight



Series: what if we [1]
Category: Super Junior
Genre: M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 02:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6355639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/upallnightstrungtight/pseuds/upallnightstrungtight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His jackhammer-grade hangover should’ve been the only aftermath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	put me back together

Just once, they’d said. Nothing about last night had been just once, though that much drinking was gonna be. Never again. _On second thought, if what it takes is f-_ Henry whimpered as another pulse shot through his head. No counting. No anything, for that matter, regardless of how interested his dick may or may not be in another round or four. He couldn’t even _move_ right now. His dick needs to shut up.

One eyelid tentatively opened to try to survey the wreckage, the other following when he realized the curtains were closed. That’s a relief. The fitted sheet looked as crunchy as he would’ve expected, and he could vaguely feel flakes sticking to his stomach and at least one arm, but the loose sheet draped over him was clean and soft. He tried to shift - hoo, chairs would _not_ be his friend today; Donghae was no joke - and nearly fell off the bed in the process. How did the three of them all fit on here?! He was pretty sure they hadn’t all been on it at the same time. Not _completely_ sure. But mostly. Physics, right?

“Ow ow ow,” he said, instantly regretting making sound in the first place. After that fresh ache died down some, rolling over onto his side was a trial in and of itself because the muscles in his thighs had turned to jelly. (That one was definitely both of their fault.) He hadn’t even noticed he was lying with his head at the foot of the bed until that very second.

Pat. Pat. Pat. He sucked in air through his teeth. Even the lightest footsteps on the planet were as agonizing as the loudest truck in the world blaring the loudest horn in the world. Or something. Oh well, not like he could do anything about it. Once again, moving was impossible at the moment. He’d already found out plenty enough about that the hard way.

When Ryeowook came into the room, thankfully nearly silently, he was holding a glass of water. He even put one of those bendy straws in it for him, probably left over from a party or one of the million sleepovers this dorm has seen, and Henry couldn’t help but mewl pathetically. He would’ve annoyed even himself if everything didn’t hurt so damn much. Then, his heart clenched as Ryeowook crouched down to hold the straw to his lips.

“Poor Henry,” Ryeowook murmured, a hint of amusement on his lovely face. God, his _mouth_. “You and Donghae are both lightweights.” Such slow, soft stroking over his head, over and over, was almost soothing enough to tempt him back to sleep.

No such luck. He whimpered again as he took a few more sips of water. He might’ve been exaggerating, but only a smidgen, and it wasn’t his fault that he got rewarded for it with a soft sympathetic sound and continued attention. _Close_ attention. In fact, Ryeowook extended his strokes over Henry’s hair to his upper back as well. Then his whole back. Then Ryeowook was just outright squeezing his ass. That got him to open his eyes fully, or at least as close as possible when barely awake, and, once their gazes met, watch Ryeowook lick his lips very, very slowly as he leaned closer. Almost close enough to kiss. If he could move. Which wasn’t happening.

“If you shower,” Ryeowook started, hushed like a secret, a great kindness, “and then come have some breakfast,” warmer and warmer still, “I think I know something that’ll make you feel better.” He smirked and ran the tip of his tongue over his teeth, mischief dancing in his eyes. Anyone else would look ridiculous doing that. Because it was him, it was now guaranteed that Henry’s never been more eager to shower in his _life_ , regardless of Ryeowook laughing through his nose afterwards. Knowing him, it could still be sincere.

Well, knowing him since last night, anyway.

Another sip of water helped Henry’s head a bit, along with the sight of Ryeowook’s fingers curled tightly around the glass. Squeeze. Squeezesqueeze. Really, if he’d known that drinking every scrap of his impulse control away would make Ryeowook this blatant, he would’ve done it years ago.

“In a few minutes,” he whispered. It seemed that Ryeowook wasn’t content with this answer, ghosting his mouth over the outer edge of Henry’s ear, his breath hot and damp, tongue tracing a path back over to his earlobe and down the length of his neck, panting as he released him but recovering quickly. Or, at least hiding it well by pulling out a few books or boxes or whatever into a makeshift tower, placing the glass at just the right height for Henry to reach the straw without a lot of movement. Too bad it was difficult to enjoy any of it all that much. The nearly inaudible instructions spoken into his hair, barely a rustle of sound, were somewhat easier.

“Take it easy today. Finish the water, then go shower and brush your teeth. I’ll have something light ready when you’re done.” Ryeowook then pecked his forehead before leaving, just as light-footed as before. Ultimately easier to stay silent and do as he was told. He’d keep the happy little leap his insides did all to himself.

*

Given the difficulty of everything in existence, the only saving grace was how close the shower stall was.

Keeping his hands from wandering was a hell of a job. Ryeowook’s beauty had never been so touchable as it was now. As it was about to become again. His head was clearing, little by little, and his fingers itched for more. Oof, he felt it in his arms, too, and little bit shoulders.

Now that thought wasn’t wholly out of the question, he idly wondered where Donghae could have gone so early and hung over, having seen no sign of him, but had to concede that it’s not always possible to know. While he blearily picked out which bottle was supposed to be shampoo, squinting at them and trying to focus, his mind wandered in unhelpful directions - Donghae's face, arms, shoulders. His ass, of course, and pressing against the firm backs of his thighs, and getting to run his fingers up the dip of his spine and over the exposed nape of his neck when he bowed his head and demanded- Henry squeezed his eyes shut in a futile attempt to block both the memory and the cannonball ricocheting off the inside of his skull. His involuntary unhappy groan only made it worse; he was once again leaning towards _no, never again, never ever ever, not a single drop._

In his current condition, Ryeowook’s offer, whether or not it was genuine, might be a moot point for several hours yet. But, just in case, he stayed the course. He leaned his forehead against the shower wall. It seemed like a good idea for a second, the coolness soothing, but quickly became uncomfortable. _Note to self: that looks nicer than it feels. TV lied._ He sighed and pushed himself back to upright with minimal swaying, trying hard not to think about anything at all. Really, really hard.

*

“Start with juice,” Ryeowook said, watching him with a small smile. Despite taking in too much in one go, as well as the embarrassing overflow onto his chin, his stomach took it surprisingly well. He wiped off the escaped drops with the back of his hand; Ryeowook’s smile grew and he shook his head. He was so lucky he could do that right now. Urgh. “Good. Eat a little bit,” he said next, soft and sweet, holding out a piece of bread. Henry looked at it with suspicion.

Okay, start slow. After taking a tiny bite to test the waters, he let that settle in and wasn’t going to think about the rest yet. From too close came not a soft patpat but more of a clomp; hard, heavy footsteps hailed down onto the floor. On top of that, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, so everything was hurting again for a bit. He made a sound like an annoyed cat with its head stuck in a box, which he also regretted, but his curiosity won out, aiming his attention towards the noise.

“Hyung,” Ryeowook called out, just below normal volume. No response. “Please come here?” His hand hovered, left pointed in the direction of the juice. As if he was waiting.

…Nothing. Donghae had turned up after all, but he might as well’ve been made of stone.

The place felt so big and empty with only the three of them, even more than when they were huddled together last night, though nothing had changed since then. Henry was tempted to shake his head to drive away such gloomy thoughts, but stopped himself in the nick of time. That... could've been bad. Very ow. _Guess he’s still here. That’s good. I hope he feels less like a used chew toy than I do,_ he thought, eyeing the bread for a moment while he felt water dripping onto his shoulder.

Irritated at the tickling sensation, he wiped it off before turning back to observe Donghae again. He was in an undershirt and sweatpants and… clutching a duffel bag? _Is that what that is?_ And he was staying out of reach. This could only add up to a bad idea - he'd regret his go-to stress solution soon enough. He didn’t stop there much longer, wincing at the third attempt to get his attention but not looking in their direction. As if having decided something, he shook his head minutely, made a pained-sounding hiss, then walked away on visibly wobbly legs.

“Ah, it’s okay. He’ll realize there’s food and come back,” Ryeowook said with an impish grin. Still quietly, thankfully. Henry tried to return it, but it was more part weak smile and part grimace. He dropped the attempt entirely as Ryeowook turned back to attend to the eggs, then had a better idea. Bite one appeared to be a success so far. Initiating bite two.

The door slammed. It startled them both, and Ryeowook spun around to look at him. Just like that, the jovial, teasing expression left Ryeowook’s face along with all the air in the room. Something was much more wrong than they’d realized.

*

Late Saturday morning, a week later, Henry’s phone buzzed on his coffee table. Before he attended to it, he scribbled in his notebook so that his half-formed thought wouldn’t be lost entirely. He put a little sad face next to it in case it didn’t make sense to him later. _Donghae’s really busy lately,_ Ryeowook’s message said, answering a question he didn’t have to ask _._ If Ryeowook hasn’t managed to talk to Donghae when they still live together… That worried him.

The book of poetry lying next to his phone taunted him, but it was still too much to handle. There was this one with a rusty lamppost- Anyway, now’s not the time, no matter how long he’s been swearing to himself that he’ll finish one. He sent back, _I haven’t heard from him in a while_ , which meant Donghae was definitely avoiding both of them. He stared at the screen, unseeing, not that there was anything new to see. A hollow, gnawing feeling ate at him. Birds fly, fish swim, Donghae spams his phone and shows up at his house on a whim. Except that wasn’t happening anymore.

A minute later, he got back, _Want to have dinner at my place tonight?_ Whether it was an attempt at fixing this situation or just some comfort, his heart leaped with the possibilities. Other parts of him were pretty pleased, too. He could stay up a little later. No big deal.

*

When the time came, raking his eyes over one empty chair after another froze him in place for a moment. It was far too potent of a reminder, plucking far, far too many strings to be anything but excruciating in the discord they made when combined.

But then again, there was cake.

That would come later, as much as he hated that thought. Best not to kid himself, though - he was barely paying attention to what was going into his mouth. Instead, his mind was a bit still on the cake and most of the rest was listening to Ryeowook’s stories, not wanting to admit how many of them he’s heard already because he’s taken to tuning in late at night for the comfort that his voice provides. Lately, it was when he needed it most. He’d picked up a habit of doing mindless chores while he listened; keeping his hands busy helped the agitation that’s settled into his bones.

So it wasn’t like it was set up for romance. The regular ceiling lights were on, no tall candles or flowers or any of those obvious things. Hell, he might’ve been embarrassed if there was anything like that. Why would there be? It’d be weird for them. And then he might’ve laughed himself silly, which probably would’ve pissed off Ryeowook if he was set on one of his random ideas, and then it’d get weirder. But anyway, even if this wasn’t made for it, it feels like they keep exchanging affectionate looks, like comfort isn't the sole motivator here.

No matter how often his eyes were drawn to that mouth, he almost didn’t notice how little Ryeowook was actually eating. _None of my business_ , he reminded himself. For a minute, he considered whether to say something anyway. After that, a possible alternative explanation came to mind, and he decided keeping his mouth shut was the right decision, even if he’d choked a bit when he realized. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said quickly, with only one little cough escaping. “Really. Can I have some cake yet?”

“Hmm.” Ryeowook’s indulgent smile, his chin resting on his hand for a silent second or two, showed that it’d been convincing enough. “Okay. I’ll put the rest away if you want to cut it now.”

“Thanks,” Henry tried to say normally and not cutely, but apparently, old habits die hard. Ryeowook laughed and cooed without looking at him. As he got his fingers into the paper latches, he registered a faint shuffling or scratching sort of sound, but nothing seemed out of place when he looked around. Could’ve just been something falling. Things fell off his counter all the time. Or, it was late, so maybe the building settling? Anything could seem too loud without constant background noise.

He shrugged. He hadn’t realized he was so hyperaware; that probably wasn’t because of dessert. A roaring river of anticipation rushed through him. Dragging the other half of his attention back to the present, he frowned in disappointment at the uneven slices he’d made. That hadn’t happened for a _long_ time. Since it was mostly for him anyway, he took the biggest one, though he didn’t recall a little plate appearing next to him.

He’d been staring at the place where Ryeowook’s neck curved into his shoulder and didn’t realize he’d given him the smallest piece. _Where the hell is my mind? My own fault if-_ The apology on the tip of his tongue disappeared in the face of a gleaming row of white teeth and eyes scrunched with joy. Like he’d done something right. Guess he must’ve, being here. That counted for a lot more right now than it should.

“Oh, it’s that good?” Ryeowook asked, sweeter than any cake could be, with a lick of flame peeking out from underneath. “I’ll try it too.”

That flame went right into Henry’s cheeks. Though he’d thought he was making an effort to slow down, he glanced down and saw that his portion was half gone as soon as he snapped out of his mental wandering, so he put his fork down to stare at Ryeowook savoring his first bite instead.

Savoring might’ve been putting it lightly - his eyes were closed, he hummed with pleasure, and around him, everything else was fading into the background. A fresh gust of desire swirled between them. _Tell me I’m not reading this wrong. Give me a sign._ When Ryeowook grabbed a tiny forkful of frosting, Henry stared at his mouth as he licked it up. His tongue retreated as he went back for more, but his eyes advanced a blazing challenge when they met.

Henry’s forgotten all about the cake.

“Thank you for a wonderful meal.” He stood up, walking around to the other side of the table to take Ryeowook’s fork out of his hand. Encountering no resistance, he put it back on the plate much more calmly than he felt, the tempo of his heart shooting up. He then tugged Ryeowook up onto his feet, leaned down as close as he’d been wanting to, and proceeded to take a taste of frosting right from that delectable smirk.

The dam burst open. Their heated looks turned into heated kisses, moving in tandem in what seemed like the right direction. _Seemed_ because he couldn’t think at all, especially not about stopping or going or anything that complicated. Managing to make it to the bedroom somehow, he knocked into the bookcase on the way to the bed from Ryeowook refusing to let go of any part of him while pulling him along, or, in this case, more like pushing him into it. The bookcase, that is. A minor disaster might’ve been the only thing that could’ve torn them apart.

“Sorry,” he panted anyway as he put it back, turning away, then hearing the click of the lock closing behind him. Good. Caution was good. The smoldering gaze he was greeted with when he was done was even better. As great as taking the lead went for him earlier, he was suddenly nervous about how far this was going to go. _Can’t just assume from last time, right?_

The bedframe creaked unhappily when Ryeowook leaped onto the bed, whisking his shirt off, which didn’t leave a whole lot of room for doubt about his intentions. Henry was more cautious as he approached, though Ryeowook was so insistent that he practically fell on top of him from his tugging. Where he ended up was a handy position to run his tongue up the column of Ryeowook’s neck, then back down to the tune of Ryeowook’s loud moan and the skillful work of his hand between them, adjusting the shape and pressure just right within seconds, setting Henry ablaze.

Whoa, okay, he was already ready to go, but if he hadn’t been, that sure as hell would’ve guaranteed it. His half-formed curse was blocked by the need to ravish Ryeowook’s collarbone next. Henry seemed to be having a hard time catching his breath, for all that he didn’t feel like he should be quite this affected. A disappointed whimper escaped without his permission when he was pushed away, left kneeling with his hands lying useless on his thighs, not quite comprehending why at first.

In a blink, Ryeowook undid his pants and pushed them along with his underwear down to his knees, then turned over onto said knees in the next blink, the bed making another strange noise under the sudden motion. If that wasn’t clear enough, the scraping sound of his nightstand drawer opening, mixing with his harsh breaths, was another big hint.

“I can’t wait, fuck me _now_!”

Henry nearly choked again upon hearing that. All doubt had evaporated. The entire city must know they’re fucking if that was as loud as it felt, but, whatever. He’s scrambling to get his suddenly clumsy fingers to unbutton his pants like he’s done _a million fucking times without incident_ -

When the pounding knock came, he paled, realizing that the strange sound hadn’t been the bed at all, but instead, a door. Ryeowook probably wasn’t in much better shape when Donghae yelled through the wood for them to keep it down before stomping away, the protests of the floor audible through their shocked silence.

Immediately, Henry felt the heat of mortification rising through his face. With how hauntingly quiet it had been, only broken by the sounds coming from the two of them, he’d thought for sure they’d had the place to themselves. But then his breath caught in his throat when he realized - Donghae was actually speaking to them! Ryeowook looked back at Henry over his shoulder, eyes wide, and there was an instant where he just _knew_ that they were having the exact same thought. More important than anything else was getting to Donghae, fixing whatever had set off this reaction, though none of it made any _sense_ no matter how many times the steps were retraced.

Henry made sure his pants were still in the buttoned state, left fidgeting while Ryeowook grabbed his shirt off the floor, pulling it over his head until he let it drop the rest of the way. He used the motion of standing up off the bed to pull up the rest of his clothing, zipping up as he briskly walked to open the lock. His speed would’ve been impressive if there wasn’t something much more urgent to worry about.

_Please come back, please let this be a good sign somehow, please…_ Henry’s mind was filled with jumbled nonsense as he followed Ryeowook the short distance between their rooms. Hope rose up in him once more - Donghae's door was unlocked. But, as Henry quickly learned, that didn’t mean he wasn’t shutting them out. He stubbornly pretended to sleep all through them trying to draw him into conversation with apologies, offers of food and entertainment and company, and finally pleading. Nothing.

Slamming the door was the first sign of trouble. The silent treatment had been awful. But him turning away right then, _that_ felt a million times worse.

Letting out the saddest sigh Henry’s ever heard from him, Ryeowook went to the kitchen to pour a glass of water. He set it down on Donghae’s nightstand, then tucked the blankets tighter around him. “Good night, hyung,” Ryeowook whispered. “I love you.”

Though he’d stood there uselessly - again - it took everything Henry had to push past the tightness in his throat to get the same words out. Doing even that much was unbearable, so he turned around, facing the light creeping in through the doorway as though that woud somehow lessen the pain. Still, there was nothing. His eyes stung. As Ryeowook moved past him, Henry threw an arm over his shoulders, squeezing him close as they walked away. He couldn’t help but think that Donghae was being cruel. They only had days left to spend together, but he was taking himself away from them. It hurt _so much_.

*

In the morning, he was already gone.

*

Equilibrium. That was the word he’d been looking for.

It wasn’t quite rivalry, but there had been _something_ , an unnameable thing that had kept a tense _equilibrium_ between the three of them, never pulling too hard in any one direction. Donghae had snapped that thread. Perhaps this was the natural consequence, but that didn’t feel quite right either. This wasn’t, _they_ _weren’t_ some consolation prize. That part was still better, so, so much better than before. But then there was the rest…

He’d gotten so lost in his thoughts that he nearly walked into the door instead of opening it. More than embarrassment, the dominant feeling this brought up in him was sadness. Even the smell of food didn’t distract him. _It’s still not right. He’s barely talking to me and I don’t know what to do_ , he thought as he opened the door - correctly this time. But he couldn’t help but hope that, with time and effort, the thread could be patched. No, not patched. Made more whole than it had ever been.

At this rate, though, none of that was likely to happen. So, he set it aside and smiled when Ryeowook waved him over. He went like a puppet. He would’ve anyway, but it helped that the man was unearthly beautiful. And kind. And laughed easily. _I think I like you more than I should._

He hadn’t yet bothered looking up a recipe for this soup, since he knew how to order it and that’s what mattered for now, but it’s earned its reputation as good for fatigue. He was starting to recover already. Ryeowook’s sweet, pleased smile as he watched him, peeking out between his own spoonfuls, helped too.

Almost too quickly to realize, Henry’s eyes darted to the side of the table, but there was nothing there. He filed that away for later. Turning his attention to Ryeowook again, there was pleasant warmth pooling in his gut. He felt like he should’ve realized back when- but it was way too late for that. Years too late. _I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what you were saying. I didn’t mean to hurt you like that._ He shook his head. _Be grateful you got a second chance_ , he told himself. Focusing on the present was the only thing to do now - and there were a whole lot of nice things here. Lots and lots.

There was a strangely serious air of finality that came on once they finished. Ryeowook’s feet stopped poking his under the table, he suddenly held his arms much closer to his body, and his easy chatter dropped away, so abruptly that it was more jarring than the clatter of his spoon in his bowl. Uncomfortable.

“So… How did it go?” Henry asked with trepidation.

Ryeowook heard the _How’s he doing? Is he okay? Did he talk to you?_ and answered those too, or so it seemed from the considering tilt of his head. “…Okay. He was still kind of awkward.” He sighed. “I’ll keep working on him if I get to see him again.”

Henry’s mouth turned down at the corner and he laid his hand over Ryeowook’s, just for a second, just long enough for the shortest squeeze possible before withdrawing. He scratched at the back of his head before realizing what he was doing and dropping his hand down to rest right above his knee. Damn, he felt like an idiot, but. Still, he kept breaking the rules and it kept working for him. At least Ryeowook looked less stiff. When nothing more came forth, Henry realized it must’ve been his turn now.

“He messaged me back,” he said without knowing how to continue, spinning the handle of his spoon. It didn’t help, but he kept doing it anyway. He’d started reaching towards his pocket out of reflex, but he abandoned the gesture partway. The truth was that he didn’t need to see it again. The memory of the message was as vivid as if it were right in front of him, casual and cheerful and exactly as if nothing had ever happened between them. Having that ignored was better than being ignored completely, but it gave him this weird feeling, like his stomach was twisting itself into knots.

“Oh?” Ryeowook had his listening expression on, still recognizable through his unusual solemnity. Henry sank further into his seat. He didn’t want this. He wanted the smiles and laughter back. More than anything, he wanted their easy bond again, the one that had been out in full force when the three of them were collectively about a bottle and a half in.

“Just once, on my birthday. It looked normal. But… it felt weird. I think he’s pretending it didn’t happen,” he said with a grimace. He could feel his jaw stiffening and switched to worrying at his lip with his teeth. No, that was no good either, he’d start peeling off dried-up bits, so he stopped that too. “Nothing else since then.” He focused on Ryeowook again, waiting to see if any more info would come from him.

Nothing happened except Ryeowook’s gaze dropping down and to the side, his sigh heavier than before. He nodded a couple of times. Radiating tension all over, he gathered up a strained sad smile that only succeeded in making Henry feel worse. It looked a whole lot like Ryeowook taking it all onto his shoulders, even though nothing could be done right now. “It’ll be okay.”

Henry didn’t let the silence sit with them. “Yeah, it will be,” he said with way more confidence than he felt. Lightbulb. “Shall I walk you back?” That bulb, figurative as it was, got swallowed up by the sun sitting across from him, shining a dazzling ray of a true smile. (He’d be happy to burn up completely in it.)

*

With him, time passed too quickly, and without him, time passed too slowly. So it was both at once.

*

Ryeowook shook his head, taking a deep breath before finally meeting his eyes with reluctance and sorrow. The answer was clear before he’d said a single word. “Sorry. He’s not letting you come see him. I barely got him to agree to see _me._ ” He clasped Henry’s elbow, then rubbed firm strokes up and down his upper arm.

Henry almost laughed at the furtive squeeze. He would’ve, if his heart wasn’t breaking all over again. He’d thought they’d been getting somewhere, judging by their occasional phone calls; he felt (heartache) sick with how wrong he’d clearly been about that.

He realized again, with a fresh bloom of pain, that this all could’ve been easy. _Why are you making me miss you this much?_

*

_Great. Just great._ Now that some lyrics were coming to him, no longer like pulling teeth, they were all mopey and depressing. He sighed, then wrote them down anyway.

*

“How is he?” He whispered, absentmindedly rocking in the plush seat.

“Better,” Ryeowook whispered back. “He wants to be out of bed. Complained a lot. He barely let me do anything for him despite that. Kept trying to push me off like a stubborn idiot,” he said with more resignation than anger. That it was dim enough to not bring Henry’s rapt attention, the way he hung on every word, into clear view was salve for the glancing blow to his pride.

“Still?” He asked, voice dropping further without meaning to, too quiet to sound as dejected as he felt. Ryeowook nodded. The projected images formed strange shadows on his furrowed brow as he made a sad “eung” sound.

“Also.” He paused. “I told him you missed him too.” The silence that followed was filled with difficult knowledge. It spoke volumes.

“I see. Thanks.” There was nothing more to say for the time being. Not here. It was dark enough to link their pinkies together until the scene switched.

*

On a night like any other, it was far too late to still be awake. They wouldn’t be for long, their hunger sated in sweat for now. A sweet scent wafted through the air, but the label was too far to look at, and who could even care? It was nice. But the soft sound Henry heard meant, clear as day, _not enough_.

He spotted a shirt on the floor that he didn’t recognize right away.

“Shhhhh, it’s okay.” He forced the words out, though he felt like he’d been punched in the gut, tightening his grip on Ryeowook’s waist where they lay together. “Go to sleep.” He moved off his other arm, bent on the pillow, just far enough to place a kiss on the crown of Ryeowook’s head. He felt Ryeowook uncoil, laying his hand over Henry’s own, then clutching a handful of the blanket closer to him. If he said something right then, Henry was already too asleep to understand.

*

It wasn’t perfect. He hated not being let in on the joke sometimes, or dealing with Ryeowook digging his heels in about the oddest things. They still had days even now where they clashed like two morningstars trying to fit together, jagged edges aplenty, but all the other days more than made up for it.

*

“Sorry I’m late,” Henry said between gulping big lungfuls of air. Given how hard it was to coordinate their schedules in the first place, this was a likely but nonetheless unwanted side effect. Ryeowook’s eyes sparkling and his hand running through his hair signaled his easy forgiveness. Mmmm. _Scritches are nice._ At the sound of Ryeowook’s chuckle, Henry opened his eyes again and unbent himself, his breath gradually evening out. Both of Ryeowook’s hands grabbed one of Henry’s, then he ran the pad of his index finger over Henry’s fingertips, over and over in a bumpy arc. His adoring expression made the room feel ten degrees hotter.

“Make sure we have everything, hm? I’ll follow your lead today,” he said, grinning wide and toothy. Henry grinned back, liking the sound of those words. Sneaking a squeeze in before detaching, he looked at the crowded counter, contemplating, then grabbed a mixing bowl out of the cabinet.

*

Henry’s hand had missed lying over the top of Ryeowook’s head to keep it from bumping into the wall (or just to keep him from worrying about it). Henry’s mouth had missed sliding over the softness of Ryeowook’s inner thighs. But more than any of that, they missed… too many things to count.

*

“This shirt would look good,” Ryeowook said, handing it back without looking at him. Henry could honestly say he’d never wholly understand.

“Okay,” he said. It was easier this way. But he liked this place. He could hear himself think, for one thing. Most of the time.

“Oh, try this one too.” That one was more questionable, a bit garish even for his tastes, but it was a small price to pay - literally - to make him happy.

“Okay,” Henry said again, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice. He followed, feeling not unlike a duckling. Experimentally, he tried flapping the fabric piles on each arm, but dropped the effort when it didn’t get him anywhere. No attention _and_ he almost overbalanced.

“And you need something lighter,” Ryeowook continued as he maneuvered between the displays expertly. “It’s been warm lately. Maybe shorts? Try these two,” Ryeowook said, still not looking at him. But, hey, no pattern or anything. Good. That, Henry could work with for sure.

“Sure thing.” For once, it was his turn to issue an indulgent grin. It didn’t last.

“Be sure to pick out something warm when it starts getting cold. Don’t go around freezing your knees off again,” Ryeowook chided. At least he didn’t say it. At least he didn’t say the words, the why. Even now, with time running out, he bestowed every mercy at his disposal.

*

_A rusty sentinel lamppost battered by the tide? Who would put a lamp that close to the water in the first place?_

*

On a night _un_ like any other, every second asleep was too much to spare. With sloppy kisses from tired jaws and loosened grips from tired hands, they clung to each other on their last night together. It felt like the last night on Earth, like devastation would rise with the sun. He didn’t want to look at the clock. It might’ve been two, three AM for all he knew. It was definitely a bad idea.

Though they were in the middle of summer, there was a thick scarf he was told to take with him on his way out, soaked in a familiar scent. Not yet. Definitely not yet. It could wait until the very last possible second.

One of his thighs laid between Ryeowook’s, sticky with sweat. Mostly. He was tempted to push anyway, ticking desperation shouting down common sense. But, no. No, that wasn’t the point anymore, even if it was easier to think about. But there was nothing he could say. What would be the use?

“It’ll be okay,” Ryeowoook said, all tentative kindness, the last clinging syllables of comfort a threadbare blanket wrapped around them in the freezing night.

“Yeah, it will be,” Henry choked out. He wouldn’t say _don’t go_. No matter how much he loved being doted on, he wasn’t a child; he felt terrible that Ryeowook was trying to console him even now.

A million different words got caught in his throat, though he'd said almost all of them already. Some several times, a few riding on harsh breaths or a soft, gentle tone. Every _I’m going to miss you_ and _I love you_ , and the handful of positives, cold comfort though they were. Every encouragement, every exhortation, each and every last bit of laughter too wet with tears to sound joyous. Never stopped him before, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop now, either. “You’ll do great and be careful and make lots of friends and come back strong andmrph-“ That was the nicest way to be shut up, really. More than he deserved. Around them, it was so quiet that he could even hear the very faint sound of their parting.

“I need to sleep. I have more visits to make, nrrmhf.” From context, that was likely meant to be _tomorrow_ , which was a guess since Ryeowook mashed his face into the crook of Henry’s neck partway through the last word. Stroking what was left of his hair was an exercise in self restraint, though Henry couldn’t help squeezing him a bit. Or more than a bit.

“Of course. Sorry,” Henry said. He could stay quiet long enough- “I’m going to miss you a lot.” Damnit. He swears he’ll get his mouth under control one of these days. It’s not like hadn’t said that a dozen times. If it was physically possible to kick himself without letting go, he would do so.

“Stop that, you’re going to make me cry again,” Ryeowook said as if he wasn’t sniffling already. And still, they didn’t sleep yet. What he gave instead, so much more than he had to, were contingency plans aplenty that could be summed up as _say yes_. He left them in pieces with blank spaces that didn’t need to be filled in to be understood; that absence was felt keenly and constantly. After that came a dozen different instructions in addition, a familiar groove in a record worn by years of repetition, tickling from being muttered nearly right into Henry’s ear. There really wasn’t a single thing left to say. Everything had been easier when this was still far, far away.

It was so _cold_. Wait, it wasn’t, it was stiflingly hot, but he was shivering. It was never going to matter how many others went through this and came out just fine. None of that was any help when saying goodbye. _I feel like I just got you and I’m gonna lose you already._ He bit his lip, trying to keep it all in and not go in circles. To stay strong. A soft touch smoothed down his temple, over his cheek, onto his chin to hold him in place. As though it had been needed at all. No, not to keep him, but he needed it. He needed it more than he could possibly put into words.

As a soft huff of a breath opened the space between them, he found out that he was wrong. It turned out that there was one thing left to say after all. One thing that could only be said here in the quiet dark.

“Donghae will come around. I don’t know how-“ Pausing for a moment, Ryeowook was the one biting his own lip now. “I don’t know how he feels about us. Either of us. Us together. Any of it. But I _do_ know he needs us, even if it’s only as friends. Don’t let him push you away. Please?” He stopped for a second after his voice cracked into gravel shards on that word. Henry knew he’d agree to anything when Ryeowook asked like that, though he was the only one who did. “Take care of him for me.”

A nod and a kiss to willingly seal his fate. “I promise.” He hesitated. Should he say it out loud? Stories, short ones but filled with agony, came to mind. It’d make them, there being a them to be defined at all, seem so… official. But- this was his last chance. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he decided he’d regret it if he didn’t. “And. Um. I’ll… be waiting for you.”

*

Most of the time, he kept himself busy enough to not think about two, now. Fuck, this was too much pain for one heart to take. It must be.

But he still sent a happy birthday when the time came, because fair’s fair, hard as it was. Even if he didn’t get a reply this time.

The days between went in a blur, but the nights dragged on endlessly.

*

A nice fantasy story was easier. There was still a lot of pretty language, and he knew what to expect, more or less. He finished it a lot quicker, though he had weird dreams a few times. Not _bad_ \- the scenery was gorgeous, lots of trees and a huge lake and these caves sprinkled with glittering colors. But the rest was kind of weird. Had he ever even touched a bow before?

*

_I get it now. This one’s about being alone. Exactly what I didn’t need._ Bookmark firmly in place - one with writing on only one side so that he wouldn’t get mixed up again - he tossed the poetry book back onto the coffee table with disdain, glaring at it for good measure. _Fuck it. Maybe next month._

Undecided between snacking or working, he unlocked his phone while tapping his foot against the leg of the table and, as always, looked at the date. How had it been so long already? He’d really been keeping himself busy.

But he hadn’t forgotten. He’d sent a message and a card early because he wasn't sure- that it'd make it in time this year. He's never missed one, and now? Now would be the worst time to start. _I hope you get_ something _, at least. I miss you more than ever._

*

Though it’d been a ridiculously long time, other than a group gathering, it was at least a month of short messages and shorter excuses before he finally saw Donghae in person. A quick affair, a few minutes for coffee grabbed between a million other things pulling him away, but it happened. That’s what mattered.

No time like the present. “Let’s have dinner tomorrow night. My treat.” Donghae looked hesitant, his expression blank, so Henry set aside his dignity to pout at him. He deepened it with every passing second, looking more pathetic and feeling even more like an idiot.

“Fine. I’ll go. But I’m paying,” Donghae answered at last. It sounded begrudging, but it was a start. He wasn’t sure if that’d work after all this time. He beamed and tried one more. He had a whole list of instructions to follow, the high, sweet voice speaking them unforgettable, the rasp he kept dipping into heartwrenching.

“Come to the spa with me next week. I’ll send you the addr- I’ll drive,” Henry said. _Whoops._ Donghae’s eyes narrowed.

“I know what you’re doing. Stop it.” He spat out the words as if he was already prepared to come to blows over it.

_Always right from zero to a hundred with him._ “It’s not like that,” Henry said, his exasperation coming through more than he’d like. “Ryeowook asked me to.” Donghae huffed out a breath and his shoulders dropped noticeably lower, deflating as if the fight was drained out of him with those few magic words. “I agreed. Because I want to help you. Now please let me keep my promise. Okay?”

*

Dinner got lost in the shuffle of last-minute changes, but at least they still had this. Luckily, it got cold at this late hour, so the steam felt nice. The goop was less pleasant, whatever it was. Henry figured he was better off not knowing. It worked; that was all that mattered. And that rough scrubby thing. He hated scrubby things. They _hurt_.

However, Donghae trying to leave without him, walking out in the middle of a perfectly normal conversation, hands stuck into his jacket pockets and a scowl set on his face in an inexplicable temperamental fit… That was the most unpleasant of all.

Henry was despairing of ever making any progress. He was a hair’s breadth away from being glad that they got too busy to meet for a couple of weeks, though he couldn’t manage it, in the end. _Keep trying. You promised him._

*

With and without, switched around.

*

At the tail end of balmy days, they floated near each other in the water, colliding a couple of times, then spoke in fragments while wet sand squished between his toes.

“I’ve been working on something,” Donghae said as a wave receded. He drew a circle with his foot that would be washed away within a minute, but still, he traced over it again and again, concentrating like it was vital to make it just right. “Do you want to hear it?”

“That’d be great,” Henry said. He risked a shy smile, but Donghae didn’t see it. “When do you want to come over?”

In lieu of answering, Donghae ran away from the incoming wave. He ran all the way to his towel, leaving imprints in the sand, lying down on his back and staring up at the sky.

But he gave his answer before they parted ways. That's what mattered.

And afterwards… Henry could admit he didn't exactly need pictures of Donghae's lunch or video of his friend's fish tank, but he was so glad to have their camaraderie back in all its easily excitable glory that he couldn't bring himself to do anything but play along, mending the potholes with the happy glow inside him. _When you love something, you love it with all your heart, don’t you. I’m glad you’re letting me in._

That night, he added one sentence to his current draft: _I'm keeping my promise._ He held knowledge and hope close by, and it got him through the night a little easier.

*

In his studio was the first time their hands had touched in two years. It was Donghae stealing his pen just because he could, just like he used to, wrestling it out of Henry’s hand as he fought back with mock anger, but beneath his skin thrummed _right_ and _more_ and _missed you_.

Nonetheless, he threw a bright green candy at Donghae’s face as revenge for the pennapping. It fell into a fold in his shirt, a clashing eyesore dropping like one of those token games from him shaking the fabric. He scooped it up near the bottom hem and popped it into his mouth with a grin.

And then… Henry watched carefully, but nothing happened. Uh oh. No retaliation now meant worse retaliation later.

_…Game on._

*

Three layers wrapped around him got him to fall asleep, but it wasn’t the same.

*

His fridge was filled with days of leftovers after each session because Donghae insisted on ordering twice as much food as the both of them combined could eat and refused to be swayed. Every single time, it was too hard to say no to him. That started a tradition of sorts.

“I told you this was too much!” Henry said with a small smile. “You have to come back tomorrow to help me eat it all.” No matter that it was easier, he’d figured out after only a couple of tries, to not fight to pay for it either.

Donghae hummed his assent, then closed his eyes, already swaying to something only he could hear. He’d then open one eye, looking askance at the containers, and eventually the other one opened too. “This one’s mine. Don’t touch it,” he’d declare, no clear pattern to his choices. Half of it would end up stolen the next day, whether in Henry’s mouth or fed to the floor in the attempt, but the sore spot on his upper arm was worth it to make Donghae make that peeved face. He whined every time, but he never learned. It was hilarious. And adorable.

Still… How many times before it might be on purpose? How long would they avoid talking about this?

*

Ryeowook looked so painfully small, especially with so many others crowded around him.

*

Henry messaged Donghae a picture of the feast to come, a cake standing proudly in its center. "Hurry and come here or we'll eat without you." He knows Donghae knows that that's not an idle threat. Also, If it isn't just them, it'll be easier, though Henry would rather not know that.

*

“Eyebrows. Always the eyebrows. I don’t _want_ anything done to my eyebrows.”

Henry smiled to himself at how quickly Donghae had picked up where he’d left off. Today was definitely going in his next letter. His smile turned wistful, his eyes downcast. _I really wish you were here right now._

“Hey! Don’t laugh at me,” Donghae said, scowling. Surely not as intimidating as he’d hoped.

“I’m not!” Henry insisted. “I’m thinking about writing a letter.” It was comfort and excitement both, filling him with all the warmth of a hearth being tended, picking out the best parts, focusing on the strokes of the pen…

Then he saw it. That same expression came over Donghae’s face as when he’d rushed out with brisk steps, Henry having to run to catch up with him. He didn’t run off this time, luckily. But. The pieces were starting to come together.

*

The easiest way to get back in sync with Donghae was physically. That meant the gym.

Henry’s the one who needed pushing here, not Donghae, so it was a cinch to get him to agree to go together. Whether Henry was following him around like a puppy or if it was mutual, neither straying too far from the other like the ends of a bungee cord, was murky at best. It seemed to change from moment to moment. Donghae would start with one close by, then switch to a farther machine, then come back to adjust Henry’s form or steal from his water bottle when he had his own.

For whatever reason, Donghae took it upon himself to take charge of the pacing. He started walking away, then stopped to look back to make sure Henry followed him to the weights, not irritated or anything. Just. Waiting, and it was easy. Nice. Really tiring, which made him remember why he’d stopped going with Donghae in the first place, but, hell, it was good to get in better shape again. Also, there were- other advantages. Visual ones.

If he wasn’t _only_ annoyed when Donghae yanked his shirt up in the changing room, getting his head stuck in it with honking laughter, no one ever had to know that.

*

**_Fuck_** , he thought when no new messages appeared for days on end. _Don’t do this to me again. I already spent_ so long _waiting for you. Just talk to me._

*

Dance practice turned out to be the trick, even though they weren’t- Anyway, they went what could be called “off task” for a lot of the time. It was fun to be with him again - teasing each other, laughing, challenging each other to pull off more and more ridiculous moves. (He regretted the aftereffects sometimes, but the faces Donghae made were too cute. Best not to tell him that, though.)

Going out to eat afterwards, Donghae’s affection came easier than it did any other time since before. It was more like he thought it with capital letters - Before. Like it was Before. Those late dinners with only the two of them were cozy and fun and didn’t include any drinking whatsoever. No surprise, because of Before.

But there were shoots making their way through the cracks. Donghae was freer with his touch, no longer held so tightly in a narrow tower of his own making. The looks they shared in the lulls felt like understanding. He kept the imitating gestures to a minimum, which meant only doing them about a third of the time, and he soaked up stories of what he’d missed, even if he must’ve been told about almost all of it.

His eyes softened when it was about Ryeowook - radio anecdotes pulled from dusty memory, misadventures, what he’d been working on or had said he still wanted to do. Except, once in a while… It was a minefield. One moment, Donghae was cracking up hearing about the camel, even though it wasn’t anywhere near that funny, then the next, he got that shut down look again. There didn’t seem to be a pattern to what set him off. Each time, he went quiet for a short spell, and the same thought hovered in the back of Henry’s mind while waiting for it to pass. _Is he gonna bolt again?_

Donghae actually _did_ go outside once during one of these stretches, but he returned after Henry had waited through a few difficult minutes of indecision. If he’d left that time, there’d be no chasing. Instead, he came back and they went on like it hadn’t happened.

At other times, Henry wondered if Donghae still wanted him. He could’ve sworn he caught glimpses of Donghae’s longing now and then, but it disappeared in a flash, gone with the briefest second glance. Was his mind playing tricks on him? Donghae’s pushed back every step of the way, so it couldn’t be. Could it? It was all too confusing. Either way, if anything was going to happen, he’d have to make the first move. _He_ must _know that. Right?_

*

There were more and more times that Donghae would grab his hand or his wrist, grasping a bit too tight, making his blood pound in his ears. Where he was led, he went. Every time.

*

On rare days of idle wandering, he found himself buying cute trinkets that weren’t to his taste at all. One of them wasn’t to _anyone’s_ taste - the gaudy base of the snowglobe was painted gold with a belled ribbon tied around it, the tree inside it made of awkwardly-shaped lumps, the horse looking stiff and grumpy. But, for whatever reason, it alone reminded him of attentive kindness from long ago and a special visit to lessen the ache of what had then seemed a bottomless well of loneliness. Thus, by gut feeling, the collection grew. He rearranged his shelves to free up one, lining them all up.

Or, he’d give Donghae the wrong mug, lost in his own thoughts, and the reminder of unfinished business left nail-shaped indents in his palm. He wanted to kick himself each time it happened.

This time, in a moment of stabbing acuity, Donghae said, “I miss him too.” Henry could only nod in response. He opened his mouth multiple times to say something lighthearted into the silence, but closed it every time when nothing came. He gave up on pretending and scooted closer to Donghae, tapping their knees against each other, only half paying attention. In contrast to Henry’s impromptu statue impersonation, Donghae had the good sense to switch the TV on. Interlacing their fingers was a great kindness just then, though it took a couple of tries to fit together right with both of them staring ahead at the screen.

Next time he came over, he got that mug on purpose. Because he _did_ understand, it turned out, and because no one else really could. Not in the same way. For once, nothing was the perfect thing to say.

*

“Hyung, um, I know you’re dedicated, and good job, I guess,” he added under his breath, just that bit in English, “but, I don’t think any part is going to require you to put your whole fist in your mouth.”

Ew, that was a really gross sound. “Really? Then what about juggling?”

“Please wash your hands first,” Henry said with despair. _How did you deal with this all the time?_

“No, boxing,” Donghae said, perking up with renewed excitement. “I wanna do boxing again.” His mind apparently firmly changed, Donghae started shadowboxing, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Yeah, that sounds fun! I’ll go with you.“ Who knew if he’d regret saying that later, but it really _did_ sound like it could be fun. Having hopefully settled that, Henry grabbed Donghae’s wrist and dragged him to the sink, even going so far as to turn the water on, gesturing towards it with mock solemnity. Interesting. That went easily and without complaint.

“Right. Thanks.” The endearing smile Donghae pointed at him while rubbing soap over his hands melted Henry faster than any laser. His heart was stolen all over again. _Never mind. I remember now._

*

He could’ve cried when the scarf lost its scent completely. Come to think of it, there was a spot that felt a little damp…

*

“Your new couch is really comfortable!” Donghae said, bouncing on it, then sprawling across, his feet propped up on the arm and _his_ arm dangling limply off the edge. “I'm gonna sleep here.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” Henry said, laughing. He left Donghae to pretend to sleep for the moment, sitting cross-legged on the floor while he picked a game. Ooh, that one. A fighting game sounds good. He sat on Donghae’s thighs, poking the second controller into his stomach until he finally took it with an annoyed grunt. Choosing whoever he recognized first, Henry realized that it’d been a long time, since he was having a hard time following the fight as it careened all over the screen, and he’d totally forgotten how the charge-ups worked.

When he lost, he scowled and shoved at Donghae’s arm so that he’d stop his crowing. Donghae responded by dumping him on the floor.

Since Donghae sat up when the next round was about to start, Henry took his spot back. More comfortable no longer being on Donghae’s thighs, but he kind of wanted that back anyway. Okay, really wanted that back. He was keeping himself under control, but that didn’t change the fact that _not enough_ was always close at hand. So were Donghae’s sides for tickling, though.

“Stop that!” Donghae whined through his laughter. “Cheater. Put on something else if you’re just going to cheat.” His hands held Henry’s in a firm grip, easily stifling further tickling attempts.

“Make me,” Henry said, entirely too close to Donghae’s mouth. He found himself the subject of a wide-eyed stare for a long moment, then pushed to sit upright, more gently than expected. _Don’t push. Remember?_ Don’t _push._ Having reminded himself, he went back to his library to pull up a racing game. After the second lap, it devolved into beautifully-rendered bumper cars.

“Get out of my way!” Donghae said, shoving at Henry’s arm.

“ _You_ get out of _my_ way!” Turnabout is fair play.

This wasn’t going anywhere. Literally. Donghae apparently decided that it was his turn to interfere, tackling Henry down onto the couch. His controller dropped to the ground. He felt lightheaded. They’d ended up nearly the same as before, but flipped over, and then Donghae moved too close and- there were all these unresolved things and Henry was unsure of everything. He panicked.

“I’m hungry.” That… definitely wasn’t what he’d meant to say. Whatever he had intended, it wasn’t that. But it got Donghae to sit up, no longer in danger of- something. Henry couldn’t think too well at the moment. On screen, out of the corner of his eye, the others zoomed past them.

“Chicken?” Donghae said, not looking at him.

“Chicken’s fine, but nothing spicy,” Henry said, still dazed.

“I know that,” Donghae scoffs, his phone already out.

Maybe no more competing for now. He pulled up some shooter he downloaded a few days ago and went to the multiplayer menu. “Hmmm.” He saw Donghae pick up his controller again, so he turned to shoot him a grin as he picked a type that would put them on the same team. One of those one life a piece game types, because he didn’t want to be in the middle of a match when the food came. Donghae grinned back. Henry felt a bit warmer than before.

The problem was that Donghae got taken out really quickly, so he turned his attention to annoying Henry instead, adding unhelpful commentary and shaking his shoulders. “Come on, you’re a sniper, you just have to get the last one! Shit! Duck!” Ignoring Donghae’s backseat playing was always the best idea.

**_Yes!_** The grenade was a lucky find. He lobs it over a giant crate about where he thinks the guy's going- boom! It's done.

Donghae let out a loud whoop, too loud for how close his mouth was to Henry’s ear, and scooped him up into a bone-crushing hug. It was a lot more than winning some unranked multiplayer match deserved, but it felt so damn _good_. Being spun around didn’t feel quite as good. But it’s okay, because Donghae put him down on his feet, smiling the softest smile Henry had ever seen from him. Then, he came closer, so close Henry could feel a puff of breath tickling his face, looking like he did-

”Wait. Do you remember that night, with the three of us?” As always, Henry’s mouth picked the worst time to talk without giving his brain a vote.

Donghae froze. His shoulders slumped; his smile dropped away, and he looked like he was begging with his eyes. Henry curled his hand around Donghae’s cheek, stroking his thumb over the topmost curve.

“It’s just for fun. Don’t make it complicated,” Donghae said. Stunned, Henry took a step back, abandoning every place they were touching.

“I’m not the one who keeps getting angry and running away,” Henry said. _Shit._ He really, _really_ hated it when his mouth ran ahead of him. But he had his limits too.

“Don’t you get it? I’m trying- I thought that it could be for fun again. But bringing that up, that’s making it complicated.” Donghae exhaled sharply. “Shouldn’t have listened to him,” he muttered, looking off to the side. He crossed his arms, then immediately uncrossed them and faced forward again.

**_Fun_** _?_ Henry thought, incredulous, too shocked to say anything. In truth, he’d held the same idea before his heart had been stomped on repeatedly. The storm Donghae was building continued unabated, his lips pressing tightly together before he spoke again.

“I had rules. And plans. And the two of you messed all that up with- whatever this is!” Donghae looked furious as he said this, tinged with his ever-present sadness. “It doesn’t matter what Ryeowook tries to tell me. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.”

“Wait just a-“

“ _I saw._ ” Donghae cut him off remorselessly just as he was starting to recover his wits. “I saw you before I left. When you were eating. Not…” Donghae trailed off for a moment. Making use of his years of hard-won experience, Henry recognized this, fidgeting with one of his belt loops while Donghae gathered his thoughts. Toughest thing in the world to do when all he _wanted_ to do was argue. Even if it would’ve gotten him nowhere. Which was what would happen. _Patience. He’ll get there. Just wait._ “Anyway, you looked really happy together and- I couldn’t take it. There’s no room for me there.”

“That’s not-“ The most important words had come out at last, but Donghae kept talking over Henry’s every attempt to interject as if it was nothing, giving him no chance to respond. _Argh. He can be such a pain sometimes._

“Of course I remember. I had a lot of time to think about this.” At last, Donghae stopped, licking his lips while his expression turned distant. But he acknowledged what Henry had said. That was a good a start as any.

“Then why-“ He felt a headache coming on when he was cut off yet _again_. At this point, he was on the verge of losing his grip on his patience.

“My feelings don’t make any difference. Leaving was the best thing I could do,” Donghae said. He turned his head away and tipped it back, heaving a sigh that sounded unspeakably miserable. Like flipping a switch, the urge to hug him was overwhelming.

_Don’t think that,_ he couldn’t say, anger swirling down the drain. In fact, now that he had the opportunity, he couldn’t come up with anything to say that didn’t feel paltry in the face of something so terribly _sad_. “Hey,” he started anyway, hoping something would miraculously come to him. It didn’t. _This is a mess without him,_ he thought with a pang. _No. No, I can do this. I **can**. _ Determined, his mind whirled through a dozen possibilities. Useful things. Logical things. In the second he spent staring at the back of Donghae’s head, listening to his shaky breathing, he discarded them all, frustrated.

_Those must be the least true things ever said_ , he thought, remembering all the times he couldn’t think of anything else, a rubix cube he couldn’t stop trying to solve. The worst part was that Donghae sounded so sure of it all. To have any chance of getting through to him, it needed to be… There was something…

Then, a wisp of a smile found its way onto Henry’s face as a nascent idea took form. “You know, Ryeowook told me you’d be like this,” he said as he laid his hand on Donghae’s shoulder. Though a poor substitute for everything he wanted, it was best to approach slowly.

“What?” Donghae asked, sounding rough and scratchy with emotion. What it needed was to be more _them_. Henry put on a mask of calm. He was hopeful, now that there was a reason to be. _Equilibrium_ , he thought once more, unbidden. And that meant doing it his own way.

“Stubborn. Unreasonable. Stupid.” That got Donghae’s shining eyes facing his direction again, narrowed with anger, and Donghae’s hands pushing weakly at his chest. _He’s learning his strength. He’s trying to be careful with me._ He had a flash of insight about that that was interrupted by more pressing matters. Like Donghae’s yelling.

“Liar!” Henry couldn’t help but grin at his indignation. He may not have remained in stasis, but he was hardly a stranger.

“He was right.” A few syllables was all it took to make Donghae pounce. In no time at all, Henry’s back connected with the carpet, some miniscule object poking into his shoulderblade. He ignored it through his laughter. This felt much more right.

“Take that back! I don’t believe you.” Donghae’s hands pressed Henry’s shoulders into the floor. He glared, his hips and his thighs a heavy weight where he straddled Henry’s waist. Like a chain of bubbles popping one by one, Henry’s laughter petered out as he realized that there was a more direct way to handle this situation. Ever the opportunist, he still made his best attempt at arching his back. Failing that, he bent his knees for more leverage to try to roll his hips up. Now Donghae looked less angry and more flustered. Henry then chanced getting his fingers under the hem of Donghae’s shirt, managing to move his arm with only minor difficulty, placing his hand on Donghae’s flank.

As if zapped by an electric spark, Donghae seemed to jump without moving off him. Henry stroked his thumb in a slow arc. He relished this small stolen taste of Donghae, and it seemed to calm him for long, heart-melting seconds before he scrambled off, pressing his knee into Henry’s abdomen just a _tad_ too hard. He grimaced, but decided it was better not to say anything for the time being. Donghae was skittish enough as it was, sitting cross-legged on the floor, still in constant motion without going anywhere. Thank god he wasn’t running away this time. All of Henry’s hopes willed that to mean that he was ready to listen.

“You’re not stupid,” he started, pausing until he was sure he held Donghae’s attention, not that much else could. Certainly not the hundredth loop of the multiplayer screen background music. “You’re not stupid, but you’re wrong.” Donghae opened his mouth as if about to say something, then stopped, his shoulders drooping down further from their earlier angry peak. “There’s been room for you from the start. We’ve been waiting for you.” _Not knowing what would happen._

“I don’t believe you,” Donghae said again, but with much less vehemence. It sounded a whole lot less sure than before. Maybe… A bigger flare of hope. Maybe he _wanted_ to believe it. It’s as if he couldn’t see the space he’d left, though its outline was painted in bold, unmissable strokes. _It wasn’t right without_ you _, either. How do you not see it?_

Oh. An idea sprang up. “He told me that if I got a chance with you, any kind of chance at all, I should take it,” Henry said with a tint of sorrow, a lump forming in his throat. It was hard to miss how Donghae softened at hearing this, though he poked at a worn patch on the knee of his jeans with a particular diligence. _I bet I know what he’s thinking. ‘Of course he did. That’s just like him, putting others first.’_

One deep breath set him back on course. He had another lightbulb moment. “So… there. It’s not great timing, but here’s the chance _I’m_ asking for. Do you want to wait for him together?” Henry held out his hand meaningfully, palm up, laying it on the floor between them. Quick as lightning, Donghae’s palm pressed against Henry’s, fingers curling around the side, then twisting to intertwine theirs together. All through this and after, Donghae’s face resolutely stayed pointed towards his knee. But he nodded. That was enough.

_Okay. That’s okay._ They sat silently for a long moment. Closing his eyes, smiling despite himself, Henry contented himself with the feel of Donghae’s hand in his, bringing a flutter to his chest. Even sweeter, Donghae shuffled closer, resting their joined hands on his knee, warm and solid, their shoulders loosely touching. _Finally._ They were getting somewhere. This was plenty for now.

Of course, that’s when the food arrived.

*

_Is this what you felt like too?_ Henry wondered as he wiped a napkin over Donghae’s mouth and chin. _Did it make you as happy as it makes me?_ _Maybe not_ , he thought as Donghae batted his hand away, though he grabbed it and gave it a squeeze right afterwards. Too bad that squeeze was a greasy one.

*

Now that he’d left panic mode behind, Henry was reassessing. He’d call the progress they’d made a success. There was no doubt about that. Donghae’s arms wrapped around his waist as he tried to put the leftovers away, laughing every time he tried to shake him off when his hold got in the way, showed that very clearly. Still, he had so many unanswered questions. And no idea what to do next.

As soon as he was done, Donghae released him to head back to the couch. He dropped onto it with a fwomp, head tilted back, eyes closed, humming contently. Henry sat next to him, turning to look at him in hopes of finding some sort of hint or answer. Nothing came. He decided to adopt the same position.

_He’s happy. That’s enough._ If only it were that simple in his heart. He felt the cushion next to him dip, then there was a warm weight from his shoulder down to his knee and also across his thighs. Opening his eyes was worth the effort to look at Donghae draped over him. Completely relaxed. When Donghae smiled up at him, taking his offered hand and sliding their fingers together, that had to be the greatest thing ever. How could he think to ask for more? _He agreed, and that’s enough. That’s a lot. I can’t expect more so soon. It took this long to get here, so I can wait however long it takes. However long he needs._ Closing his eyes again, he basked in the feeling of having Donghae so close. There was plenty of time to work out the details and what it all meant.

At the very instant that Henry accepted this, Donghae finished what they started earlier by kissing him.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against Donghae’s mouth. He could cry from how utterly _relieved_ he felt, a heaviness he didn’t notice before leaving him like the swell of a wave. Also, Donghae’s other hand was gripping his upper arm as if to make sure he didn’t go anywhere, and that’d gotten his interest stirring. As did Donghae’s face when he pulled back, heavy-lidded and staring at his mouth, then going in for one more hard closed-mouth kiss before releasing him for good. Henry wanted more _so badly_ and couldn’t do anything about it for fear of spooking him. Whatever they were, it was still too new, too fragile.

Using their first connection while letting the other drop, Donghae pulled him up and out of the living room and, soon enough, onto the bed. Now he was _very_ interested. One of Donghae’s arms insinuated itself under his neck and over the back of his shoulder, and the other pressed diagonally down his upper back, and Donghae’s chin hooked over his shoulder. Henry couldn’t get out without a lot of difficulty, even if there was anywhere else in the world he wanted to be right now. Which there wasn’t.

Slowly, so gradually, an unwanted inch of gap formed between them, then was erased once more. The press of Donghae’s lips to his was much softer this time, much less desperate. His grip was no less so. “Just this much,” Donghae said, his firm tone belied by the slight tremble in his voice. “Just this much until he’s back and can tell me himself. Tell me what’s okay.” Henry wanted to laugh again, but the space where Ryeowook should’ve been had never felt colder or more empty than it did right then. He still considered protesting - god _damn_ , the length of Donghae’s torso pressed against him felt good - but the rational part of him that he hated listening to won out. Still...

“If you change your mind,” Henry said, pushing his knee between Donghae’s thighs with little resistance, “he said this was okay too.” Donghae shook his head. The neck kiss he snuck in was a nice bonus, though.

“It doesn’t feel right,” he said in a petulant tone.

“We could just-“ Henry didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence because Donghae clung to him even tighter than before, familiar, intimate, almost enough to make breathing difficult. Overcome with affection, he decided he’d leave that thought unspoken for now, smiling to himself and letting his eyelids fall closed. “Love you,” he said quietly, getting the words back the same way. He was relaxed and full, and he dozed off right before their shared sorrow could drown him.

*

He’d never been so glad to be bombarded with a dozen of Donghae’s messages in a row. Some of them were to check up on him, just like- _Don’t_ , he told himself. _Focus on the present._ If he concentrated, he could almost still feel the remnants of each visit’s goodbye kiss to his temple, too, accompanied by a soft slide down his arm ending in a softer squeeze to his hand. He could almost feel all of it again, bright orange embers burning in his chest. _I’m so lucky to have you._

They didn’t need the excuse of the leftovers anymore, and Donghae got too busy for that anyway, so he’d only get a little bit extra to bug Henry to eat it when he couldn’t be there. Henry knew because Donghae did that _every single time._ Sometimes, there’d be a candy bar or a note tucked away in the cutlery drawer, too. The logic behind that wasn’t clear - why that one? But he always left something behind. Henry wondered if Donghae knew how much it helped.

*

Waiting was agony.

On the bright side, through a chain of difficult-to-arrange and mildly awkward phone calls, Donghae’s doubts were eased bit by bit. It led to Henry rubbing at the joints of his jaw, stretching it open experimentally. While sure to be irritating today, the ache was a worthwhile one, having been acquired in the pursuit of that magnificent view of Donghae above him. Then in front of him. Then from another angle in the mirror on the closet door.

It was a pain to wash off his face - his own fault for accidentally using hot water _again_ \- but that was worth it too, for the way Donghae had stared at his mouth like it was the greatest gift in the world, and for the breathless way that he’d said “You’re amazing”, and for every hug from behind that had him clinging even tighter thereafter, with bonus mouthing at his neck between disjointed endearments.

Oh, and the chocolates he was suddenly way more eager to share. With his teeth. And his tongue.

*

A box of tea that he’d never tried made its way onto the trinket shelf. _Soon._

*

“No.” If there was one domain that was worth it to put his foot down about, it was the kitchen. There was _no way in hell_ he was budging on this.

“I wanted a glass of water.” Donghae’s pout was potent, but his hands were a hundred times moreso.

“I said no. Don’t go anywhere near _anything_ that makes fire,” Henry said firmly. Visions of possible disasters came to him unbidden, growing more horrifying when he remembered his new knife set as well. Definitely a good time for a distraction.

“You’re overreacting,” Donghae grumbled, but let Henry lead him by his shoulders to sit in one of the chairs. He seemed happier after a conciliatory kiss, then happier still with Henry in his lap. The thread was being woven back together, little by little.

An ominous creak came from under them. “Shit.” Despite Henry’s best efforts to get up, Donghae held tight. “Let me up. It’s gonna break!”

“Don’t wanna,” Donghae mumbled.

“Hyuuuung, I made this one! I like it! I don’t want it to break.” Damnit. Henry’s pout didn’t work if Donghae’s face was smushed into his chest. If he tried harder to escape, though, it might put more pressure on the chair.

“You can make another one.” Donghae’s grip around his waist was unrelenting.

They both paused, waiting for something that wouldn’t come. Missing laughter. Missing halfhearted scolding. Not yet complete.

*

“Come on, I need you so bad, please, _please!_ ” He was too far gone to be embarrassed. He’d leave that for morning.

*

Now, on some nights, it was almost warm enough. He pressed his lips to the back of Donghae’s shoulder, and the delighted sound Donghae made in response called up his closed-eyed, closed-mouthed wide smile as clearly as if it was right in front of him. Henry held him closer while he repeated numbers in his mind, etched into his memory. Glue for the broken places. Balm for the uneven edges where the breaks still hurt. He had _so many plans._ Loosely. More like ideas. But it’s gonna be _great_. He was drifting off, happily ensconced in the images.

“Make me something when you get up,” Donghae said.

“Why do I have to get up?” Henry half asked, half complained.

“Because I’m hungry,” Donghae said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But I’m tired. I thought we were going to sleep.” Henry knew he was whining, but Donghae had already been very demanding. Exhausting, even. A good exhausting, but still exhausting.

Turning onto his other side, Donghae proceeded to perform his amazing octopus act. An ass-grabbing octopus. _He has four limbs, but clings like eight! How_ does _he do it?_ This seemed to ignore that it was counterproductive to Henry getting out of bed, though he resettled his arms around Donghae anyway. His hopes of sleeping quickly faded as Donghae’s mischievous grin grew. Henry’s pout only fueled it.

“Feed me,” Donghae said with a peck. “Feed me.” Another peck. “Feed me.” Two pecks. “F-“

“I got it, I got it!” Yep, he already knew he was going to give in _again_. He took a mental inventory of his fridge before Donghae could start up again. “We have some eggs left.” Henry panicked for a moment - he sure as hell hadn’t meant to put it like that. But Donghae grinned at him even bigger, all teeth, and his face held nothing but excitement and joy.

And needed another kiss before he could get up, anyway. To give him strength.

*

He wrapped the scarf around Donghae’s neck, sending him an approving nod. Both of them could barely keep still, so a walk was in order. _T minus one._

They kept bumping shoulders. It was definitely on purpose. As the chill nipped at his nose and cheeks, Henry pointed out the moon coming out from behind the clouds.

_Ready for liftoff._

*

At last, his heart was whole again.

“No ice, extra pearls,” he said, setting the cup down on the table in front of Ryeowook. He got a split second of a beaming smile before Ryeowook’s mouth was otherwise occupied. “You’d better not have thought I was going to forget.”

Ryeowook shook his head, mouth still wrapped tight around the straw. He looked tinier than ever while his hair was still growing out. Nonetheless, Donghae was taking advantage, his arms curled tightly around Ryeowook’s shoulders as he stood behind him and his nose nuzzling a lazy back-and-forth line along the top of Ryeowook’s head. He took a deep breath. His exhale sounded so relaxed that it was surprising he didn’t liquify into a blob on the floor. If he had, Henry was ready to join him there, too.

Three wasn’t magic. The settled, satisfied, _home_ feeling wasn’t about a number. It was about them being together again.

Basking in the quiet, Henry took in the image of them - here, safe, _happy_ , he couldn’t help but think again - for as long as he could bear to still have a foot of space between them. Couldn’t have been more than a minute, but he’d never forget it. He managed to wrap an arm around each of them, one an accomplice in obstructing Ryeowook’s range of motion, the other across Donghae’s back. Even if he was bent a little funny to manage that, it was exactly what he needed right then.

“It’s really good to have you back,” he murmured. Extra quietly, since he was right next to Ryeowook’s ear and wanted to keep all his limbs. He rested his forehead against Ryeowook’s cheek. He was warm.

Ryeowook turned to give him a sweet, cold-tinged kiss. He was still warm.

“I want one too,” Donghae said, part demanding, part whining. No one could make that endearing like he did. After putting his drink down, Ryeowook wriggled and wriggled until they both released him, then stood up, facing Donghae. Henry stepped back, out of their personal bubble, leaving them both in his view. What they were doing felt important in a new way, and he was loathe to interrupt.

Cautiously, with a few false starts of pulling back a fraction and moving forward again, Donghae cradled Ryeowook’s face in the most tender hold imaginable. They looked at each other for uncountable seconds before he stepped entirely into Ryeowook’s space, and while his hands hid the details, there was no doubt that he got what he’d been after. He got a whole lot of it, tilting this way and that, and then he pressed their foreheads together.

“I missed you so much,” he said, his tone laced with adoration and a hint of oncoming tears.

“I missed you too. But I’m here now,” Ryeowook said, then turned away to yawn into his hand. Or, Donghae’s hand, as the case may be. How was it possible for a yawn to sound cute? “Tired. Let’s go lie down.” He stepped back before plodding off in the direction of the bedroom, half-finished cup already forgotten, so Henry put it in the fridge while keeping one eye on Donghae following him. He wasn’t touching anymore at the moment, not since he’d let his hands fall back to his sides, but hovering nearby as if Ryeowook were in danger of collapsing to the floor or something.

There was a moment of tension as the three of them stood in front of the bed, no one making a move to get in. Then, Ryeowook looked at Henry with confusion.

“Oh, it’s the same bed? Didn’t you want to buy a new one?” The tension immediately seemed imagined. _Of all the things to say,_ Henry thought, fondness showing in his grin. He felt even warmer when Ryeowook returned it. So did Donghae, throwing in a wink behind Ryeowook’s back. They were obviously on the same page. _This is gonna be **fun**._

“I need help picking it out,” Henry said with a sly smile.

“Ah, is that so?” Ryeowook said noncommittally. He faced the bed again, yawning once more. He put one knee on the edge of the mattress, then the other, followed by a little hop-leap to faceplant into the pillows. (He didn’t need to know that extra ones, the softest Henry could find, had been added just for him. All the weird looks for squeezing pillow after pillow in store after store were worth it to see him nearly melting in relaxation.) As much as Henry liked the idea of his tray, he was currently relieved that he’d put that away for safety reasons which shall go unnamed. Very good reasons. Well-meaning reasons. Reasons that didn’t look before jumping onto his bed and didn’t appreciate crashing into said tray.

Doesn’t matter now. Hearing Ryeowook’s deep breaths was pure tranquility.

Henry went around to sit on one side, careful not to disturb him. Donghae’s attempt was less successful on the opposite shore, ending in a little bounce that he looked none too pleased about. After a moment of hesitation, he smoothed his hand up and down Ryeowook’s upper back, who let out a sleepy-sounding, content hum, turning partially onto his side. Straining to reach Donghae for a quick peck, given without hesitation, before lying down himself, Henry was overjoyed that the leaving and the waiting was done, that he could stay here with them for hours. Also, forever, preferably, though it was hard to keep that level of clinginess tamped down with his nerves going haywire.

“Good thing I don’t have to really go into the army.” Henry didn’t need the irritated whine to tell him he was an idiot. He knew as soon as the words came out of his mouth, and he was sorely tempted to bash his head against the wall. _Hello, mouth, have you met brain before? Only once or twice? I’m sure you’d become good friends if foot got out of the way so you could spend more time together._

“Sure, rub it in,” Ryeowook muttered from his pillow palace. Donghae reached over to smack Henry’s arm, but tugged him closer immediately afterwards, his fingers sliding down to insinuate themselves under Henry’s waistband while he hooked his calf over Ryeowook’s shin. Relieved that he hadn’t ruined the moment, as evidenced by Ryeowook’s arm resting on his side and curled loosely over his back, as well as Donghae’s thumb stroking his hip, Henry was quite glad just then that he got a bed big enough to fit three of him long before any of this happened. Who knew he'd need it like this?

Like a flighty bird, Donghae’s touch skittered away, his arm instead wrapping around Ryeowook to turn him onto his side completely. To catch up, Henry scooted closer, getting some of the warmth back. He was pretty sure his expression was as soppy as the one on Ryeowook’s face. _If you can’t beat ‘em…_ Impulse control be damned, he kissed the tip of Ryeowook’s nose, then shuffled closer again for the comfort of chest to chest and lip to lip, Donghae’s forearm pressed between them.

They broke apart without meaning to. Ryeowook was now being rocked forward minutely, and the reason was hardly a mystery. He let out a needy sound that was irresistible, striking a visceral chord that spoke of just how long it’s been. Tilting his neck back and making that sound again, louder this time, he made sure Donghae quickly got the message, lips parting further, tongue flicking out as soon as Donghae’s bottom lip was within reach of it. _Fuck_ , their mouths gliding together was so fucking _hot_. Moving closer, Henry thought, _This is everything I need, right here._

It didn’t seem real, having them back. This couldn’t really _finally_ be happening, but it _was_ , real enough to run his fingertips down Ryeowook’s neck, over his collarbone, trace aimless spirals over his chest. Real enough to see him subtly stretch towards his touch. And real enough to reach over and grab a handful of Donghae’s ass, too, taking the chance to both squeeze and egg him on with a push or three. Fucking hell, he wanted to see that more than anything. Practically could already, in his mind.

He felt more than saw the signs of Ryeowook’s imminent movement and pulled back. He was feeling pretty good about himself when Ryeowook turned until he was on his other side entirely, facing Donghae. This was going _great_.

“Are you saying yes?” Ryeowook asked bluntly. Nothing more subtle than a hammer had worked very well anyway. “We’ve been waiting for you. I’ve been waiting for you for a _long_ time.” Donghae nodded, going back in for another kiss. From the back, Ryeowook looked boneless in that moment, going pliant. That was plenty for Henry, who took the opportunity to run his hand over the back of Ryeowook’s head, down his neck, following the trail of his spine through his loose shirt. He sighed contently, but Donghae moved back while looking confused, his brow furrowed. Ah. Henry spotted the edge of Ryeowook’s hand on Donghae’s chest.

“You have to say it,” Ryeowook said, sounding not unaffected, but… which one was that… patient. Patient in the way a mountain was. Unyielding.

“Yeah, I am. I’m not going anywhere,” Donghae said, stony-faced until Ryeowook’s pushing hand slowly morphed into a pulling grip on a fistful of Donghae’s shirt. He might’ve not even realized he’d started to lean the other way.

“If you don’t mean it, you should get out of my bed right now,” he said in a husky voice.

“But-“ Henry was about to protest that it’s his bed, then thought better of it. Discretion is the better part of valor; he’s gained some discernment over the last decade. Then, he rolled away out of reflex just in time to avoid any less-than-pleasant collisions when Donghae pushed Ryeowook onto his back using his whole body, pressing him into the mattress.

“I mean it.” Oh _fuck_ , Donghae’s voice had dropped nearly to a growl. A good time was definitely coming.

The bed may have been big enough for them, but it wasn’t _that_ big, so when Donghae moved up onto his knees, one must’ve slipped off because he fell back down. But he was a quick learner - in no time at all, Ryeowook’s emerging complaints were muffled by Donghae’s mouth. Happily so, by the sound of it.

Propping his head up on his elbow, Henry was content to watch them for a bit, see where it goes. The frost is over and all beautiful things are blooming anew.


End file.
